


Tyger Tyger

by TeamParkGae



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Child Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Everyone loves Jooheon, Hurt/Comfort, Jooheon Whump, Jooheon hypnotised, OT7, Other, Past Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Wonho cant watch people cry, honestly that video hurt, hurt! Jooheon, so I made it worse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 18:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14699715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamParkGae/pseuds/TeamParkGae
Summary: Tyger Tyger burning bright... Having watched the video of Jooheon being hypnotised I felt the need to write something. It ended up being alot longer then I thought it would but hopefully its ok ^^ WARNING: THIS CONTAINS DETAILED DESCRIPTION OF CHILD ABUSE SO PLEASE READ WITH DISCRETION.





	Tyger Tyger

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't watched the video of Jooheon being hypnotised then you're going to need to - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ejk609w6BtI& ^^ 
> 
>  
> 
> Quick warning this is very sad. It contains graphic descriptions of child abuse. Both physical and psychological. Read at your own discretion! 
> 
> I'm sorry for this. I love Jooheon and his family seem super sweet but I got alot of feelings.... 

Close your eyes 

You’ll be hypnotised. You’ve already entered it. 

What do you feel? What are you thinking right now?

Where do you think you are right now? 

 

**I can see an audience that looks like clowns...**

 

Is it a Korean setting? Or a Western setting? 

 

**Western...**

 

Western? Okay. 

 

**I’m imprisoned behind big iron bars...**

 

What kind of person are you? 

 

**I’m not a person...**

 

Are you an animal that’s in the circus? 

 

**Yes.**

 

 

Tyger Tyger, burning bright,

In the forests of the night;

What immortal hand or eye,

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

 

In what distant deeps or skies,

Burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand, dare seize the fire?

 

And what shoulder, & what art,

Could twist the sinews of thy heart?

And when thy heart began to beat,

What dread hand? & what dread feet?

 

What the hammer? what the chain,

In what furnace was thy brain?

What the anvil? what dread grasp,

Dare its deadly terrors clasp!

 

When the stars threw down their spears

And water'd heaven with their tears:

Did he smile his work to see?

Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

 

Tyger Tyger burning bright,

In the forests of the night:

What immortal hand or eye,

Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

         

                                        William Blake

 

 

**I don’t feel good**

 

Jooheon felt sick to his stomach. They were going to be hypnotised on camera? Something about tapping into a past life. He knew he should be nodding along with the others but the ringing in his ears was too loud to hear what the manager was saying anyway. Maybe he could talk to them? Maybe they would call it off? Of course not. A wave of nausea hit him as he saw all the cameras on set. He could yet tell them he was sick, they’d let him go back to the dorm. They didn’t need him. He shuffled towards the older before whining out. 

 

“Hyung, I feel really really sick” he pouted slightly for effect as the older to turned to look at him. 

“Why don’t you sit down for a minute? Have some water? You’ll be ok. All you gotta do is sit for this one and when it’s your turn you just sit some more and talk. You’ll be ok, I promise” his manager smiled warmly at him and ruffled his hair. Jooheon felt like the ground was falling out from underneath him. 

 

**But it’s very sad.**

 

The six boys watched on in horror as their second youngest sobbed uncontrollably. They were speechless at the boys pain. None of them missed how even the hypnotherapist seemed shocked by the strong reaction. Hoseok tried desperately to wipe the tears from his eyes but he couldn’t help it. His baby brother was so sad, so scared and there was nothing he could do. He would give the world to never hear him cry like that again. They listened to him cry out, beg for freedom. Whatever happened after this there was one thing they could all say for sure. They would never set foot in another zoo again. 

 

Fear wound it’s way tight in their chests as Jooheon sat up. It was over, he shouldn’t be crying anymore but he was. Why was he still crying? Flinching away from touches and movements like he’d been burned. The next half an hour was the most painful thing they had ever experienced as they tried to coax the still dazed and scared rapper towards the van. The hypnotherapist had tried to explain to them that he was no longer under, that he was simply dealing with pent up emotion. That he would be fine he just needed to go home and sleep. But none of them were really listening, all too focused on the quivering boy before them. 

 

 **I really hate those people.**  

 

The six boys sat in silence in the living room. They managed to get Jooheon into bed without stirring him. And now they were all sat reeling from the day they’d had. It was clear to them that his upset hadn’t come from his memories of Mathew. This was something else. Something worse. Someone had hurt him, left him broken. How hadn’t they noticed? Why hadn’t he told any of them? They had so many burning questions but they knew that the anwers would be difficult to find and even harder to hear. Changkyun huffed, rubbing a hand over his tired face. He never cried. Especially not in front of people but watching his hyung be so scared had forced the tears out of him before he knew what was happening. He let go and leaned on Hyungwon’s shoulder, soaking his shirt. The older placed an arm around him tightly and kissed the top of his head. Tears pricking the corner of his eyes too. 

 

“I hate them.” The Maknae spat “Whoever they are. I fucking hate them.” 

 

The rest of the group nodded rage and sorrow clawing at their insides, squeezing around their throats. Sufficating them with the force of it. 

 

**There are a lot of people in front of me**

 

Jooheon open his eyes to the sound of applause and the feeling of a slightly damp tissue pressing in to his hand. He sat up wiping the hot tears from his face. He could remember everything, it was still so real. So raw, if he closed his eyes he could hear there laughter. The shouting. His father was shouting. He snapped his eyes open again as a fresh set of tears sprang in to his vision. The camera had stopped rolling, he should be fine now. It was over. He closed his eyes again to steady his hammering heart. The hypnotherapist laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. He flinched back like it had burned him, letting out a loud sob. The older man frowned in confusion for a moment before realisation dawned on his face. A look of horror stealing it’s way on to his gentle features. 

 

The older man crouched down in front of Jooheon and placed a gentle hand on his knee. Jooheon flinched at the contact again. Sobbing even louder this time. 

 

“It’s ok. You’re ok.” He soothed the boy in a low gentle voice. “You’re safe here, you’re safe now. No ones going to hurt you.” 

“I- I- T-Taemin” the young rapper mumbled out. The older man frowned in confusion before glancing back at the group for answers. 

“His little brother’s name is Taemin” Hoseok explained with a shaky breath. Wiping his eyes free of tears. 

“Jooheon, it’s ok. Taemin’s safe, you’re safe” the older man tried to soothe again. 

“No! No he’s- I have to. He needs me. I have to protect him” Jooheon sobbed out. All sense of reality had left him. 

“Doctor? What’s going on? Why is he so upset?” Minhyuk asked quietly, leaning foreword in his chair. He didn’t miss the way Jooheon flinched back at the movement. None of them did. 

“I think I’m starting to understand.” He grimaced turning back to the second youngest and addressing him “you don’t need to him protect anymore, he’s no longer in danger. Neither are you. You’re safe here. No one is going to hurt you or him.” 

 

Jooheon shook his head. Whether it was to disagree with the older or clear his thoughts was anyone’s guess. 

 

“I think you need to take him home now.” He spoke quietly. The manager nodded, staring with concern at the rapper sat shaking in the lounger. 

 

It took nearly half an hour to get Jooheon calm enough to get in in the van waiting outside. Every touch sent him trembling and sobbing. He crumpled down the wall by the door and sat on the carpet for five minutes before Hoseok snapped. He could take this anymore. 

 

“Honey look at me please.” He tried to keep his voice calm and steady but the tears streaming over his cheeks gave away his true feelings “you’re safe here with us. We won’t let anyone hurt you, please calm down. Please. We’re safe. It’s okay” the older gently stroked his hair in attempt to soothe him. After a few more minutes the younger slumped forward and leant on his chest, too exhausted to do anything more than shake and let out the occasional sob. Hoseok scooped him up into his arms and followed the others out to the van. No one could bare to rip the eyes away from the young rapper for more than a few seconds. They all watched him carefully in the van as he drifted off, sat in Hoseok’s lap, encased in strong warm arms. 

 

**There was a lot of fire**

 

Pain burned down his spine as the hard leather cracked across his back once again. The breath he tried to take had been stolen from his lungs. His vision swam and blurred, black dots dusting his view. Another flash of pain sent him reeling, everything coming back into blinding focus before it once again faded to a blur of tears. It only took three more before his body slumped and the black dots began to expand, covering his vision entirely. He was floating now, the cold kitchen floor no longer stinging against his bare chest. He eyes slipped closed and then there was nothing. 

 

**They kept on threatening me**

 

Jooheon’s eyes were downcast as he listen to his mother angrily pace the kitchen. The tell tale swishing of thin liquid in a glass bottle and the slur of words tipped the 12 year old off to his mother’s condition. He wondered morbidly if it was like a form of Stockholm syndrome that she started drinking or whether if it was simply a case of ‘If you can’t beat em, join em”. Either way it didn’t matter, he just sat and nodded his head when he sensed her eyes land on him with anger. 

“Why in the hell would you think it’s ok to just cause trouble like that? I can’t believe you would be so lazy. It’s not like you’ve never been set homework before you fucking idiot. Now I have detention slips to sign, calls from your teachers. You do realise how this makes me look don’t you? How much shame and trouble you’re causing for me and your father. When all we’ve tried to do is look after you!” 

Jooheon rolled his eyes at her last comment. A humourless puff of laughter escaping his chapped and bitten lips. 

“Are you fucking laughing? You ungrateful little shit. We have tried our best to do right by you and this is how you repay us? You think your father’s bad now? Can you imagine what he’d be like if I wasn’t here to protect you? Maybe I should teach you a lesson. Would you be happy? If I was gone? Is that what you want me to do? Because that’s what you make me want to do. I have plenty of pills and drink. Maybe I should do it. You deserve nothing less.” 

 

**I was caged behind bars everyday**

 

Jooheon’s tired eyes snapped open to the sound of the door slamming. He sat bolt up right eyes flitting to the alarm clock on his bedside table. 2:48am. It could only be him. The sound of stumbling echoed from the hall up the stairway confirming the young boys fear. 

 

Footsteps on wood. A creak. He was on the 1st step. Only 12 more to go before he reached the landing and then only four strides to his bedroom door. Jooheon’s blood ran cold. Another creak. The 4th step. 9 to go. The 7 year old dived for the floor and shuffled underneath his rickety bed. The glow of the hall light casting shadows across the dark wooden slats holding up his matress. Another low drawn out creak. The 7th step. And then another final creak. He was on the 9th step. Now there would only be silence and then the dreaded light from the hall would fill his room. Jooheon tried to focus on the familiarity of his hiding place. The eyes in the wood stared back at him. He desperately willed his heart to stop beating so loudly in his chest. Fearful it would give away where he was to the drunk man storming around the house. The man was a tornado. A tempest of rage and with every drink he sunk he would become more and more of a monster. Light filled the child’s bedroom and he stopped breathing. Perfectly still. He stared up at the slats once more suddenly feeling more trapped then safe. He wanted so desperately to turn and search for the pair of booted feet wandering his carpet. But what if he heard him move? What if he was already knelt silently watching with his venomous smirk and his cold eyes? Silence swallowed him up as he tried to listen out for any sign his father was still in the room. 

 

Before he could register the feeling completely the pair of bruising hands had wrapped around his ankles. Dragging him out from under the bed. His thin shirt road up to his shoulders, the carpet burning and tearing at the delicate skin of his back. He screamed out in fear as a hand wrapped around his throat. The man didn’t breath a word. He didn’t have to, Jooheon could tell by his smirk just how laughable the middle aged man found the situation. The boy steeled himself as best he could as a fist raised up and slammed down hard in to his stomach. He curled on to his side as vomit forced its way up his throat. He tried to force it back down as a boot connected with his already injured back. Bruises bloomed over bruises on his pale skin. He cried out as silently as he could becoming almost numb to the relentless asault of hands and feet.

 

His body trembled as he lay on the floor watching boots leave the room, door left ajar. The fragile child mustered the last tiny dregs of strength he had. Whimpering as he shuffled closer and closer to safety. It took him about ten minutes cover the two and a half feet between him and his goal before he pushed himself back under the bed. It was tight and too hot. The imposing wooded slats cutting across his vision, trapping him. But if he couldn’t get out then nothing could get in either. He was suffocating himself with claustrophobia but this kind of fear felt almost safe. 

 

**They hit me**

 

Jooheon woke up in his bed. Confused and tired. His eyes were sore and puffy from too much crying he sat up and glanced around the other beds, it was just him. He climbed out of bed looking over at the clock on the side. 7:38pm, he’s only slept for a few hours but he felt as though he been shrouded in sleep for years. He stumbled down the hall to the living room rubbing at his sore eyes. He looked up and found six pairs of eyes all staring back with deep concern. 

 

“Hey” he breathed out, offering a weak smile. 

“Heon, come and sit down” Hyunwoo patted the space beside him on the couch, offering a comforting smile of his own. 

 

As the young rapper crossed the small space he realised that this was it. They wanted to know. He had to tell them. He dragged in a deep breath and settled him self down on the seat. 

 

“I don’t even know how to start.” The leader shook his head ruefully, looking at the others. They all looked just as lost as he did. “ what happened?” He breathed out. 

“It- my father” Jooheon stared down at the floor shame burning at the tips of his ears. The members sucked in a breath of shock. It didn’t really need much more explanation than that. It was abundantly clear what Jooheon meant but he tried his best to continue anyway. 

“He used to drink a lot. It made him really angry. I don’t know why. It was me or my brother, I wasn’t going to let him hurt my brother.” Jooheon shook his head at the thought, he looked around the room. Hoseok had tears in his eyes, they all did. “I could take it. For him.” 

 

Suddenly strong arms wrapped around his shoulders. Jooheon sat in shock as he felt his leaders body shake with a sob, tears soaking the shoulder of his shirt. He wrapped the older in a hug and let him cry. He was ok now. He’s been ok for a long time. It had felt so real earlier. So fresh. But now it was like a cloudy distant memory. Kihyun came to sit behind him and stroked at his hair soothingly. Tears sprung back into his eyes, it hurt. He let them fall silently and basked in the feeling. He was sad but it wasn’t a bad feeling. It felt like acceptance, like truly moving on. This was his family now and they loved him. 

 

**Please, I want to get out of here**

**I want to leave but I don’t have the courage to do so**

 

Jooheon was 11 when he watched his little brother climb into his aunts car. His father was at work. His mother was... god knows where. They begged him to leave, to run with them but he couldn’t he couldn’t bear to leave his mother. I’m the same way his aunt couldn’t bear to call the police on her little sister. Maybe she should have protected her sons but maybe she was just as terrified as they were. He watched them drive away with tears streaming down his cheeks. He had protected him for this long. He would be ok as long as his baby brother was safe. He stood in the drive for another half an hour before his mother stumbled up the drive and grabbed his arm. Too tight, her nails dug in. She pulled him into the house and went to grab a fresh bottle of whatever hell she had decided to sink into this week. He sighed and quietly slipped in to his bedroom. It took three hours for them to notice his brothers absence and another three hours of beating before they gave up trying to find out where he went. In time they almost forgot about their youngest son. Only mentioning his name to curse him out when they were too drunk to think of why they hated him so much. Jooheon had never been more grateful. Taemin was safe. He would always be safe and if Jooheon ever saw him again he would be sure to never let him go. 

 

 

Let’s try to see how you died in the past

**After I performed...**

**I went back in there**. 

 

You went back to your cage?

 

**Yeah**

**That’s the end.**  

 

How old were you?...

 

The audition had gone so well. He’d nailed it, he was going to become a trainee, he was going to live in Seoul and everything was finally going to be ok. All he had to do was stick it out for two more weeks. His mood dropped as the bus pulled up near his home. Now he had a time frame two weeks seemed like it was years away. Could he survive that long? He let himself in to the house quietly. Glancing around for any sign of his father or mother. Silence. Maybe he was the only one here. He wandered through the house picking up bottles and depositing them in the recycling. Upstairs in his room there was still a mess on the floor, bed sheets and books strewn around. He sighed as the familiar feeling of rage welled in his chest. Just two more weeks. He could do this. A flash of red on the floor caught his attention. Blood soaked into the carpet. His blood, from two nights ago. He felt his still split lip and the rage became too much. Just two more weeks. Fuck this. He grabbed his rucksack and jammed a few sets of clothes into it before moving to his parents bedroom and tearing through the drawers. It was here some where. Bingo. He jammed the wad of cash in to his bag and made his way down stairs. Pulling two water bottles from the fridge and grabbing his coat off the chair. He wasn’t sure where he was going but Seoul was a good start. He was sure he could afford the bus there maybe even a few nights at a hostel. He could go to the markets and help out the Ajummas, maybe they would give him some cash. In any case two weeks on the streets of an unfamiliar city would be better that one more second in this hell. As he wrenched the door open he noticed numbly what the date was. That explained why all the audition staff were so happy, full of smiles and excitement. Maybe this could be his present to himself. A new future. 

 

2008.10.06 

 

**I was 14...**

 

Tiger! Tiger! Turning white

In a cage just twice your height

Six paces left, six paces right,

A long slow day, a longer night. 

 

Tiger! Tiger! Dreaming still

Of the scent? The chase? The kill? 

And now? No need. No place. No scope. 

No space. No point. No hope. 

 

Tiger! Tiger! Paces. Paces. 

Once he flashed through open spaces. 

His world once echoed at his roars. 

Now he’s quiet. He stares. He snores. 

 

An inch of sky glimpsed through the bars. 

A puddle. Concrete. Smells of cars. 

He sniffs the air. He slumps. He sighs. 

And stares and stares through jaundiced eyes. 

 

                                              Michaela Morgan


End file.
